LIVE REVIEW: HEALTH + PERTURBATOR + KING YOSEF @ THE TIVOLI 18/09/26

Words by Steph Ure Photos Charlyn Cameron

Technical difficulties delayed the beginning of the night, leaving Brisbane fans waiting outside The Tivoli a little longer than expected. However, the vibe stayed positive as security handed out water and anticipation grew. Once punters were ushered in, the lights finally went down. King Yosef, Perturbator and HEALTH were about to make sure any niggling frustration became a distant memory.

A blacked-out stage gave little warning before King Yosef launched into the night with a ferocious scream. Synth, guitar and drums collided as the Portland artist immediately established himself as a commanding presence, carrying an almost reformed-bad-boy swagger as he screamed, belted and danced his way through the set.

Punchy drums drove “Cut the Cord”, while even further technical difficulties barely interrupted his momentum. Whether asking for more vocals in his ears or dealing with something going wrong, Yosef handled it with professionalism and kept the atmosphere alive. Then he decided Brisbane had been standing still for long enough.

“You’ve been sitting still and I’m fucking over it. Time to dance, motherfuckers.”

Launching into “Mist of Pain”, heads started banging and a pit began to form. From there, Yosef only grew more feral. Red and blue lighting accompanied brutal screams, heavy drums and a stage presence that seemed to increase with every song.

Dedicating “Spire of Fear” to his friends, he paused mid-song for water before unleashing one of his biggest screams of the set, flashing the audience a cheeky smile and immediately throwing himself back into it.

Getting a crowd moving as the first starter band of the night is difficult enough. Doing it after they have spent longer than expected waiting outside is another challenge entirely, but King Yosef knew the room he had inherited and rose to it. Perhaps the best glimpse of the person underneath the performance came afterwards. As a hip-hop track played during pack-down, Yosef helped with cables while singing, dancing and casually grooving around the stage. Brutal one minute, delightfully human the next.

Perturbator then transformed The Tivoli entirely. Blackness and piercing blue spotlights turned the room into an underground 1980s synth-punk club as electronic music collided with live drums and darker industrial sounds. James Kent commanded an intimidating collection of synths, pedals and instruments while dancing and throwing his hair around with enough enthusiasm to deserve recognition on technical merit alone.

Beside him, the drummer was equally commanding, bringing rockstar energy to the electronics and ensuring the live percussion remained central to the performance.

Perturbator knew exactly when to let the music breathe and when to attack. Heavy drums and synth were paired with lighting that enhanced rather than distracted, creating a performance that felt immersive rather than simply watched.

The crowd reflected the genre collision happening onstage: metal and goth baddies, leather-clad mummies and daddies in straps and masks, and ravers dressed in black with their signature dark sunnies. Somehow, everybody belonged.

By the end, Brisbane was screaming for one more song, an impressive response for a support act. Perturbator obliged and delivered perhaps the most feral drop of the night, the kind you feel hit your body before your eardrums have caught up with what the fuck just happened.

Then it was time for HEALTH. Opening with “VIBE COP”, Jake Duzsik greeted the room with a simple, “How are you, sick cunts?” before the band stepped immediately into explosive energy.

Duzsik's melodic vocals cut beautifully through the weight beneath them, while John Famiglietti matched his energy and BJ Miller appeared to be having the time of his life behind the drums while absolutely sending it. HEALTH understand when to slow down and when to completely let loose. Rather than simply playing songs live, they created an atmosphere around them, pulling the audience through shifts between beauty, darkness and chaos.

“Bris-Vegas, let’s get dancing for this one.” “HATEFUL” followed, and Brisbane happily obliged. The band seemed to be enjoying the experience just as much as the audience. A packed photo pit buzzed below them while the crowd moved behind it, creating one of those wonderful moments where every part of the live music ecosystem seemed to be working together.

“FEEL NOTHING” then left the room doing precisely the opposite of what the song’s name suggested. As the set moved through “WE ARE WATER”, “YOU DIED” and “DEMIGODS”, the atmosphere became noticeably more emotional. People who had spent the night dancing and headbanging were suddenly holding back tears.

“ORDINARY LOSS” loosened the room again, but the connection remained. Strangers cuddled, held hands and danced together while singing dark lyrics back toward the stage. It became a reminder of why music and lyricism matter: sometimes hearing difficult feelings echoed by hundreds of other people makes them feel considerably less isolating.

Eventually, Duzsik announced the final song, while also refusing to participate in the traditional pretend encore. “This is our last song, and I don't mean it in an indirect, non-truthful way where we go backstage and come back. That seems silly.” Fair.

There were no instructions for how Brisbane needed to experience it either, being asked by Druzsick to dance, stare at the stage, or enjoy themselves however they wanted.

“DSM-V” began and the crowd immediately clapped along, throwing whatever energy remained back towards the stage. Then, once the band had finished, came one final announcement. “Hey Brisbane, I'm coming out there.” Druzsik gleefully shared with the crowd with a cheeky, excited grin on his face. And out he came, finishing the night with a crowd surf.

What began with technical difficulties ultimately became a night about connection. King Yosef took a restless crowd and made it move. Perturbator transformed The Tivoli into a dark electronic underground club. HEALTH took everything that had been building and turned it into something communal.

Underneath the screaming, synths, brutal drums, darkness, ridiculous quantities of hair and bodies flying through the crowd, the night became about finding joy and connection within dark moments, and showing up however you could. By the end, the earlier technical difficulties were forgotten.

What remained was community.